


South

by InfinityIllusion



Series: Halloween Treats [22]
Category: Leverage
Genre: AU - Powers, Angst, Case Fic, Fluff, Gen, I feel like this could've been longer, I switch viewpoints without warning or due cause, Kinda, Multi, Post-Season/Series 05, Pre-Relationship, oh well, passing anime and PJO references, timeline is wonky just go with it, why is this so long
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-24
Updated: 2017-10-24
Packaged: 2019-01-22 09:33:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,588
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12478564
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InfinityIllusion/pseuds/InfinityIllusion
Summary: Nothing was ever confirmed, but that's the way it is with the better (the best) criminals.  Unfortunately, secrets have a way of coming out, especially when a job goes south.





	South

**Author's Note:**

> Day 22: South
> 
> Sorry this is late guys. I basically collapsed after grabbing groceries and just wanted to sleep all day...and then I had homework yesterday, and I just spent like an hour and a half on this today, so. It's still October, that's all I can really say.
> 
> Disclaimer: Stiiiiill don't own Leverage.

* * *

There’s a note in all their files, about suspected powers, but none of them are held long enough for testing – or, in Eliot Spencer’s case, not held under situations that facilitate testing.

It doesn’t really matter, in a way.  The vast majority of the population has powers, and if their capabilities are anything to measure by, various governments, and in IYS’s case, insurance companies, around the world have the proper gear to hold them.  Blockers might be a bit expensive, but if you’re going to hold a criminal, if you’re going to hold a thief, if you’re going to hold a hacker, a hitter, a grifter, you’re not going to want to give them any more advantages than they already have, even if you have some talents, yourself.

Or, that’s what Sterling argues.

Having worked with Nate, maybe even been friends with the man (it’s a little hard to tell.  Nate denies it, but Sterling doesn’t and the team, if they were actually on speaking terms with Interpool, would probably have a number of things to bet on the outcome of that argument and subsequent classification of the relationship between the two), the agency isn’t going to tell him he’s wrong, off hand, when he’s been the closest any of their agents have gotten to the so-called “Leverage” crew.

But then, for the criminals being chased across the known continents and various countries, with Leverage, there’s a cushion of safety between them and capture.  (It doesn’t matter if they have powers or not, there’s something incredibly invasive about having your DNA extracted and experimented upon, without your consent.)

The contingency is Nate.  Nate has a plan – multiple plans, and things always work out, when Nate plans things.  Then Parker has a plan – multiple plans, and while things work out a bit differently than when Nate plans, things always work out, too.

They’re not omnipotent, though, none of them.

Sometimes a job goes south, and then sometimes it goes FUBAR, which Parker affectionately calls Plan ‘Mageddon, as an extension of the infamous Plan M, because they’re all dying in that one, even bringing in Sophie and Nate.

They’re all playing roles antithetical to their jobs – not that it hasn’t happened before, but with Eliot as the main grifter, Hardison as the hitter, Parker still as the mastermind, but also hacker, Nate as the thief, and Sophie as a hacker/grifter back up, things get a lot messier than they would otherwise.

“Guys, we’re blown,” Hardison grunts, as he faces off against six suit-wearing men, who all look like they were hired from a cookie-cutter shop.  Maybe the witch in Hansel and Gretel had scrapped them right off a magic cookie sheet or something.  Hardison didn’t know how they all ended up looking the same, but he really wasn’t looking forward to their fists meeting his face.

“I know,” Eliot inserts into the conversation – monologue, really, that the guy they were trying to bring down is forcing him to endure, handcuffed to a sturdy wooden chair from the conference room and with a gun aimed at his head.

“Yup, definitely blown,” Parker agrees, scampering up into the air ducts and away from the various people attempting to get through the door, which she had sabotaged when she’d heard them coming down the hallway.

“You don’t say.” Nate dryly observes, ducking out of the office with the file up his sleeve and the folder a decoy under his suit jacket.

“That, Hardison, is a bit of an understatement,” Sophie mutters, having just ducked into a bathroom and away from the various guards who were slowly advancing down the line of cubicles.

There’s a sigh from the three younger criminals, and things get very confusing for the next hour.

~IiI~

“I really wish I didn’t hafta do this,” Hardison mutters, before lifting his hands up to something that might allow him to use self-defense maneuvers.

“Seriously?  Man are you even in security?” One of the ginger-bread-men asks, incredulous.

“Oh, man, I work all kinds of security.  I’ll be sure to make sure you all know which kinds in the future.”

Go figure, that’s not what you’re supposed to say to these guys.  Eliot grunts at them, Parker just tasers them, and Hardison tries to be nice and polite and have a chat, and what do they do?  They decide that’s the signal to go and try and punch his lights out.  Man, just no respect for manners!  Or trash-talking!

Hardison bodily picks the first one up and uses him as a flail against the others.  They’re all plenty strong, and one or two of them might even have a bit of talent relevant to their field, but they’re all within Hardison’s reach right now, and so they all get knocked out by their coworker, who’s thankfully also been knocked out, which had cut off the awful shrieking.

Hardison sighs and says, “Man, I told you I wish I didn’t hafta do this.”

He walks away, grabbing his phone from his pocket and getting right back to typing while shaking his head.

~IiI~

Eliot clears his throat, “Hey, man, can I get a glass of water?”

Their mark eyes him, but ultimately decides that, given the way he's doubly handcuffed, both arms and legs, to the chair, there’s really no point in not giving him some water from the cooler.

Besides, he’s still got the gun, and the thief is still in the chair, bound. That thought causes a smirk to cross the man’s face.  The thief can drink the water from a bowl, like the dog he is.

“You know, I was thinking about this plan of your’s,” Eliot starts.  “You do know you could do a lot more with it, if you think about it a bit.”

“Oh yeah?”  There’s something interested in the mark’s voice, even if he’s trying to cover it.  He’s talking with a _thief_ , after all.

“Oh yeah.  You could expand the operation, work on not just taking advantage of your company’s locations in Europe for trafficking, but utilizing other business trips.  An extra day for leisure here, an invitation for you to sight-see a little with business partners, and bring a friend or two along for the visit.  You’d increase your profits by 68%.”

There’s nothing there that the mark hasn’t fantasized about before, obviously, but Eliot can see that he’s got his hooks in the man.

It’s easier to make it a bit of a slower progression, let them drop their guard, consider what he’s saying, so they’re listening that much harder for when he tries to dupe them.

That’s not what he does, though.

“I could go on, but,” and here Eliot finally lets the power slip off his tongue, “ _I need you to unlock these handcuffs, starting with my right hand_.”

There’s always a bit of a struggle, but the man’s already heard him, and that’s about all Eliot needs, these days.  Eliot doesn’t ask him to do anything too crazy all at once though.  That’s the best way to lose a person.

The mark moves, slipping the cuff’s key from his pocket.  He bends, not quite kneeling, to get at the key hole on the first handcuff on Eliot’s right arm.

The first cuff clicks open.

Then the second.

The man moves to Eliot’s left.

One hand cuff, two.

And then Eliot’s fist catches the man in the temple as his left grabs the hand with the key, to make sure it doesn’t fall and leave him stranded.

He gets himself out of the remaining handcuffs.

~IiI~

Parker knows they’re following her – there are motion sensors in the air ducts, and while Hardison had taught her how to turn them off, they, like the rest of the security system, got turned back on with the automatic reboot some annoying person on the third floor had forced by doing _something_ to his website blocker.

She can hear them, all their little minds going “find her, find her!”

It’s too bad that this company makes all their people wear blocker cuffs.  It’s so much more fun when people don’t, but then, she’s got people counting on her, and Hardison and Eliot didn’t sound happy, so she’s probably going to get to taser people.

(It makes their brains jolt just a bit, crack open just a bit wider so she actually gets feelings and reasons beyond the scuzzy surface stuff.)

She doesn’t quite lose them, but she does find Eliot – Hardison’s brain keeps going, “I told them,” and she’s worried, but he’s nearly out of the building and he’s got his phone, while Eliot is still here and with his mind making little bubbles about how he’d like to throw up, or drink a vat of coffee to get the taste out of his mouth.

She pops out of the air vent about ten feet from where he’s jogging down the hall.

“You can use all the coffee machines when we get back to the Brewpub,” Parker says, completely serious.  “Or we can get you a Pumpkin Spice Latte which you really like.  That’d sweet enough, right?  It’s also got spices.”

Eliot blinks, and she knows his brain makes a little jerking motion, then just keeps spinning up bubbles of thoughts and she knows it’s okay.

Which is good, because she’s not really sure what she’d do, otherwise.  Like, she and Hardison have nearly got Eliot staying over every night, and yeah, they could stop, but she really doesn’t want them to, not unless Eliot does.  She guesses it doesn't matter, anyways.  He’s fine with her doing her mind thing.

“No sugar right now,” Eliot says, kind alike he’s trying to scrape the taste off his tongue with his teeth.  Oh, so that’s what it tastes like, Parker concludes.  Maybe that’s why he doesn't like all the sweets she does….

“Okay, guys, we’ll be at the South’s fire escape, whenever ya’ll’re ready.”

“We’ll be there in five.”  Because the mark had apparently thought that a second floor conference room was a great place to hold a potential thief.

Amateurs.

Parker snort-laughs in agreement.

~IiI~

Hardison nudges the van doors with his foot (it’s not Lucille, so he doesn’t feel that bad about the dent that’s gonna be in the door), letting them fly open to admit Eliot and Parker.

“Go, go, go!” Parker shouts, even though it looks like Eliot wants to say it, if the force of his scowl is anything to go by.

Nate floors it, and Eliot jerks the doors closed, and they’re all still tense, but they’re still alive and out of the building, they have the information.  The mark’s gonna be wary, sure, but there’s not a whole lot Hardison can’t do with his computers, these days.

That’s not quite why they’re all a little tense, though.

~IiI~

“Sooooo,” Hardison draws out the vowel, once they’ve all reconvened at the Brewpub, freshly showered and fed (and Eliot’s begun to try drowning himself in coffee).  “Who’s gonna be the first to talk about the pink, stripped, trumpeting elephant in the room first?”

Nate clears his throat.

“You know, at IYS, they could never figure out if you had talents or not.  All of your files had little question marks in that box, with the occasional suggestion that was crossed out because it couldn’t be confirmed.”

Sophie laughs at that.  “It’s not like mine is hard!”

Nate levels a look at her, before she smirks.  “Tricky, but not hard to guess.  Then again,” she continues with a toss of her hair over her shoulder, and turning to look at the rest of the team, “they were only seeing what they expected.”

Nate shrugs.  “Yours did have the most unconfirmable suggestions.”

“Really, you’d think at least some of them would learn to think things through and not just rely on their eyes or talents,” Sophie scoffed, unimpressed.

Eliot laughs lowly, but didn’t stop downing the pot of coffee.

Nate rolls his eyes.  “Alright.  Limited clairvoyance, only affected by my own actions.”

“You know, that definitely helps me understand the control issues – beyond the other reasons,” Hardison says, causing Nate to sigh and exchange a look with Sophie.

Looking at the two of them, Hardison points to himself.  “Wait, me? I’m next?  Alright, fine.  Super strength, basically.  Got some extras to make sure I’m not shattering bones left and right, but really.  Black dude, in the system and then even with Nana?  Yeah, I didn’t want to be another statistic on those cop’s reports. ‘He was threatening us and because of his talent we couldn’t get close enough to subdue him peacefully,’ yadda yadda yadda.  Nah, man.”  Hardison shakes his head.

“‘Sides, I like computers.  Also the bit of agility boost I get goes a long way with a keyboard.”

“Don’t you have to reinforce the keys in case you go ‘Hulk Smash!’ on them?” Parker asks.

“Babe, I love the reference!  But nah, I need, like, momentum or something.  Somewhere I have the exact calculations done, but you can check them if you want.”

“Okay!” Parker chirped, before she stared at the rest of them for a second or two.

“Also, I can read people’s minds, but not really, because I don’t know why they do something, or what they’re really feeling.  Also, I’ve always wanted to ask, Sophie, doesn’t it give people a headache when they lie with both their mouth and their brain, but two different lies?”

Sophie blinks.  “I don’t think so, Parker.  They probably think the, ah, lie in their brain is the truth, and you don’t have a problem grifting.”

Parker nods, “Well, not now, but then I separate them into what Alice, or some of my other names do, and it works out a lot better.”

“Um…okay, well, I’m glad you worked something out, Parker,” Sophie says, even as Nate takes in a breath to say, “You’re Alice.”

“Don’t say that, Nate,” Eliot growls from behind the coffee pot.  “It’s how she’s dealing with it, and you know she’s been doing it for years.  Let it go.”

Nate shrugs.  “Alright...”

Eliot sighs, puts the literal _pot of coffee_ (seriously Hardison is going to be having a talk with the man about that, he didn’t think he’d ever have to worry about Eliot overloading on caffeine, “it’s decaf!” Parker whispers.  “I switched it right before he put the water in.”) down and mutters, “Obedience speech.”

“Wait, like Charm Speaking from Heroes of Olympus, or like Lelouch from Code Geass,” Hardison asks.

Eliot glares.  “The first one.  Lotta people’d’ve had a lot of use for me, but I didn’t need to use it much initially, and no one really knew for a while.”

Parker whispers, “Oh.”

Eliot grimaces.  “Yeah, Parker.  That’s why I asked you not to ask.”

“Wait, okay, for all of those non-mind readers in the room, did Moreau know?”

“Yeah.”

“Jeez, man.”

“Okay,” Nate claps his hands.  “On to happier topics!  Hardison, what’ve you got on the fallout from on last mark?”

“Well, did _he_ get a surprise this morning…”

~IiI~

It’s not quite the last time they talk about it, but it also kind of is – they sometimes make use of their talents on cons – well, Parker always does, but they start to use their talents as the tools they are, and not as the weapons other people would have used them.

* * *

And that's a wrap.

*Runs off to post the next one*

Kudos, comments, concrit welcome -- responses will be coming probably tomorrow!

~Fins


End file.
